Vail handed Jackson the evidence. “I’d apologize, but I don’t want to be disingenuous.”
Jackson chuckled a humorless laugh. “You’re a piece of work.”
“Hey,” Dixon said. “You’re getting a more civil, diplomatic Karen Vail. A few months ago, her response wouldn’t have been so nice.”
“Thanks,” Vail said. I think.
Jackson pulled his camera from its bag. “I guess I should feel fortunate. But I don’t.”
Burden took a long look around the room, and then said, “Clay Allman’s downstairs waiting to come up. How long?”
Jackson thumbed a dial on his Nikon. “Give me thirty. And make sure he’s escorted, I don’t wanna be responsible testifying about what he did or didn’t see.”
As Jackson began snapping photos, Burden, Dixon, and Vail left the room and let him work his magic. They exited the building and joined Clay Allman by the curb, right where they had left him, hands in his jeans pockets and flexing his legs in place. The temperature had dropped a few degrees and dusk had crept in.
“You didn’t have to stay in the exact spot,” Burden said. “I was only kidding.”
Allman spread his arms. “I aim to please.”
“My mother had a sign like that in the bathroom,” Vail said. “Over the toilet. I aim to please, so please aim.”
“Sounds like you had a strange childhood,” Dixon said.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“Give it another thirty,” Burden said to Allman, “then head on up with Sanchez. Sanchez,” he called to the cop standing at the building entrance. “Thirty minutes, take Clay Allman up to the crime scene. And don’t leave his side.”
Sanchez raised a hand in acknowledgment.
“How about you come by after, walk us through those cases you dropped off.”
Allman consulted his watch. “I’ve gotta file a story, but I can come by tomorrow morning, spend a little time.” He backed away, then said, “Good?”
“That’ll work,” Burden said.
“If it isn’t my new favorite asshole,” Vail said.
Pulling up to the curb was Stephen Scheer. He shoved the gearshift to its endpoint, and then got out of his Honda.
Burden extended an arm to block Vail’s path. “I think I’ve gotten to know you pretty well, Karen. Leave him alone. Let me handle this.”
Vail kept her mouth closed, but the firm set of her jaw and narrowed eyes spoke volumes.
Dixon came up beside Vail. “Think he’s gonna look at us?”
“I wouldn’t invite eye contact if I was him.”
“Inspector,” Scheer said, doing as Dixon had predicted and behaving as if the two women were not present. “I’m told you’ve got a new body.”
“I can’t confirm or deny,” Burden said.
Scheer’s gaze flicked over to Allman, who was standing thirty feet away, beside Officer Sanchez.
“So is that how this is going to be? Silent treatment and a barrage of ‘no comments’?”
Burden cocked his head. “What do you want me to do? You’ve put us in a very, very tough spot. But yeah, there’s a new body. That’s all I’m gonna say.”
“And get this, dickhead,” Vail said. “Your bullshit article might be responsible for her death. Print that.”
“Don’t give me that,” Scheer said.
“We warned you,” Dixon said. “Did you think we were bullshitting you?”
Allman was standing by the doorway, his chin tipped back, watching the scene play out. Vail figured he must be enjoying it, though he displayed no overt signs that it brought him any pleasure.
“You still have a chance to make this right,” Dixon said.
“It’s beyond fixing,” Vail said. “But you can prevent the guilt from keeping you up at night. Tell us where you got that info. Who’s your source?”
Scheer poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek. He looked at Allman and held his gaze, then turned and stormed back to his car. A moment later, he burned rubber away from the scene.
Vail watched him peel away and began to wonder if they would ever learn who was sabotaging their case. If he didn’t reveal himself soon, she was going to have to quit being so nice and do more than merely ruffle a few feathers.
32
MacNally had finally fallen asleep. He was dozing and dreaming of Henry when he felt a firm hand clamp down on his mouth. His eyes shot open—but before he could react, two arms swung him onto his stomach and his head was buried in the pillow. A heavy weight climbed on top of his legs.
A hand grasped the waistband of his pants and yanked hard, nearly ripping the fabric and pulling them down. His legs were pried apart.
MacNally tried to twist his neck, to free it, to call out, to bite—something defensive—but whoever had a grip on the back of his head had his face pressed so firmly into the pillow he had tremendous difficulty breathing. His attacker’s other hand was applying such a powerful downward force between his shoulders that fighting back was impossible. He was, essentially, locked down in place.
Voorhees’s words echoed in his mind, and he instantly knew what was coming. A second later, he felt something hard penetrate his anus. And it hurt, ripping pain as he tightened and tried to fight it—but with his legs splayed apart, he couldn’t muster any strength to keep the sphincter closed.
MacNally swung his elbows back, hoping to make contact with something, to just get him to stop, but he struck hard objects—muscle, he figured—and the attack continued. Finally, minutes later, the rapist shuddered and his body stiffened, and then all movement ceased. The man pulled out and the weight lifted from MacNally’s body.
He was able to lift his head—but a different set of hands immediately took over, shoving his face down into the pillow.
No air, can’t breathe—
And another body mounted him from behind.
This time the rape was more forceful. MacNally now had a sense as to whom had gone first—Carl—and now hard-bodied Kurt was taking his own ride.
MacNally was as Voorhees had predicted. A lop.
Carl and Kurt were predators. And he was locked in a cell, imprisoned in more ways than one, with no end in sight.
In fact, it was just beginning.
33
Vail had an idea, and acted on it swiftly. “Get in the car, Roxx. Burden—your keys.”
“My— For what?”
“Quick,” Vail said, running over to the driver’s door. “I’m going after Scheer.”
“For what?” He tossed her the keys. “You sure that’s smart?”
Vail didn’t answer. She was busy turning over the engine. Dixon was pulling on her seatbelt when Vail peeled away from the curb.
She leaned forward as she accelerated, struggling to keep an eye on Scheer’s disappearing vehicle.
“Find the light, Roxx. Flip it on.”
Dixon bent over and felt around, then found the round, magnetic device. She rolled down the window, turned it on, and then stuck it on the roof. “What do you have in mind?”
“A little blackmail. You in?”
“That’s kind of ambiguous, Karen. And blackmail is, uh, well, illegal.”
“Not real blackmail. Just some...creative coercion.”
“‘Creative coercion.’ Sounds to me like the new PC term for blackmail.”
Vail swerved around a car and accelerated. “I think we should use it, start a trend.”
Dixon grabbed onto the seat as Vail yanked the wheel hard to the left. “How about not?”
Vail had closed the gap between their Ford and Scheer’s Honda and were now forty or so feet behind him. The reporter’s brake lights flickered, he appeared to glance in his rearview mirror, and then he slowed his vehicle. A Prius to his right pulled to the curb and allowed Vail to pull up directly behind Scheer’s bumper.
As both cars came to a stop, Scheer remained in his vehicle.
“I don’t think he realizes it’s us,” Dixon said.
&
nbsp; Vail shoved the gearshift into Park. “He’s gonna shit when he sees that it is.”
“Getting pulled over like that, he’s probably already shitting.”
Vail grinned. “Even better.” As she walked toward Scheer’s car, his expression was evident in the sideview mirror. He popped open his door and got out.
“Don’t you know that when a cop pulls you over, you’re supposed to remain in your vehicle?”
Scheer folded his arms and leaned back against the Honda. “What do you want?”
Vail looked across the car at Dixon. “A bit testy, brash...even arrogant. Don’t you think? Not the reaction we expected.” She turned back to Scheer. “How about showing some respect for a federal law enforcement officer?”
“So is that what this is? You pulled me over to harass me? Fine, go on. Have your fun.”
“Stephen,” Vail said with a pitying shake of her head. “I’m here to help you. We wanted to make you an offer.”
Scheer looked from Vail to Dixon. “What kind of offer?”
“I’ve got a story that’s surely front page material. And,” she said, rotating her watch to catch the streetlight, “looks like there’s still enough time to make your deadline.”
“Let me get this straight. You want to give me a story. After what you said to me yesterday? That’s a bit hard to believe.”
“It is hard to believe. No, I was thinking of making you the subject of a front-page article. The reporter who, pissed off at his former friend and colleague, decides to write some bullshit story that includes dangerous and irresponsible information that sets off a serial killer.”
“We hear your job’s in a bit of jeopardy,” Dixon said. “A piece like that might not sit well with your editor. Or the paper’s legal team. Might just put you over the edge.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” Scheer said, his glance rotating between Vail and Dixon, no doubt gauging whether or not this was a joke. Or a bluff. “I’ve got a family to support.”
Vail took a step forward. “Tell you what. We’ll ask the woman whose house we just visited back there, and see if she’s in a forgiving mood. Oh, wait. We can’t ask her. She’s dead. Because of you.”
The muscles in Scheer’s jaw contracted, bulging from side to side.
“But,” Dixon said, “if you cooperated and helped us out, tell us who your source was for that article...” She shrugged.
“Then there’ll be no story,” Vail said. “Nothing will jeopardize your job. And you get to keep working at the Register until you fuck it up on your own, and get fired.”
“What do you say?”
“I’d say this is blackmail.”
“No, no,” Dixon said. “Creative coercion.”
Vail lifted her brow. “See? Has a nice ring. Don’t you think?”
Dixon bobbed her head. “I didn’t at first. But it’s growing on me.”
“So, Stephen. What’ll it be?”
Scheer looked up at the black sky. Puffs of white were barely visible, and the moon was somewhere beyond, a glowing disc of stark brightness set against the mottled darkness. “I don’t know who my source is.”
Vail shook her head. “I’m disappointed. I thought he was gonna help us, Roxx.”
“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know.”
“What’d you do, meet some guy on a dark street corner? I think you’ve been reading too many spy novels.”
“I got a text. A series of texts.”
“From who?” Vail asked.
Scheer closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”
“How’d you confirm the information?” I feel like a trial lawyer. I already know the answer to that question.
“I didn’t.”
Bingo. “So you get a few texts from an anonymous source, and you run with it? You write an article based on unconfirmed and unsubstantiated claims?”
“I don’t believe him,” Dixon said.
“We’re not convinced, Stephen. You’ve been a journalist a long time. Do you see why that’d seem like bullshit to us?”
“It’s not bullshit. You were...you were right. My job’s on the line. I needed something big. And I needed to get the jump on Clay. This first text came in, and I...I jumped on it. I’ve never done that before. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” Vail looked at Dixon. “He’s sorry that he incited a serial killer to kill an innocent woman. And her husband.”
Scheer threw his arms up. “Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because,” Vail said, “that’s what happens with this type of killer. The worst thing you can say to him—let alone in a national newspaper—is that he’s of below average intelligence. That’d incite him, big time. A guy like this, he’ll act on it.”
“He may even come after you,” Dixon said.
Good touch, Roxx. But I think he’s freaking out enough. “Give me your phone.”
Scheer jutted his chin back. “What for?”
“I’m gonna check out your story. He sent you texts, I want to see them.”
Scheer bowed his head. “I deleted them.”
Vail slapped her hand against her temple. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“I didn’t know—I didn’t want to get my source in trouble. I didn’t want any record of it. Normally we don’t have to disclose our sources. You know that. Even in a court of law, we’re protected. But carrying it around on my phone all the time freaked me out.”
“What was the number?”
Scheer slowly shook his head.
“You don’t even know the number.”
He sighed deeply. “I don’t.” He turned to face Vail. “Please. I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean for that woman to get killed. I didn’t realize—I thought the info was legit. I just wanted the story...”
“You hear from him again, we want that number—as soon as you get it. And don’t delete it. You hear me?”
Scheer nodded, but kept his gaze on the ground.
Vail gave Dixon a look of consternation, then headed back to their car.
“I’m sorry,” Scheer called after them.
Once in the car, they both slammed their doors.
“You believe him?” Vail asked.
“Yeah.”
“Me, too.” Vail watched as Scheer got back into his Honda.
“So what does this mean?”
“That’s a good question. Who’s leaking that info? I guess we can look into Scheer’s cell number. His carrier will have a record of the numbers of his incoming texts. Even if they don’t store the content, they’ll have the sending numbers.”
“If it’s not a throwaway, it’s worth a shot.”
“Text Burden, pass on what we discovered, and tell him we’ll meet him at the station, give him his car back.”
WITH THE TIME CREEPING PAST eight, they dropped off Burden’s Ford at Bryant Street, discussed Scheer’s anonymous tipster with Burden and Friedberg, and then the two inspectors called it a night. Vail caught a cab back to the Hyatt while Dixon met a friend of hers who lived in the city for a drink.
Vail walked into the Hyatt and took the escalator up to the seventeen-story lobby, where the atrium’s angular lines, pinpoint lights and expansive grandeur still grabbed her attention each time she returned to the hotel.
Resigned, Vail settled her back against the elevator wall, then rotated her head left and watched through the curved windows as the cylindrical car rose smoothly, the lobby diminishing in size as she ascended to the fourteenth floor. The doors slid apart and she made her way down the long open hall to her room. She dialed her son as she walked, and was surprised when he picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, honey. I was just checking in. How are things?”
“Fine.”
He’s going to grow out of this one-word teen-answer phase, right?
“You have everything ready for space camp?”
“I’m not some little kid, Mom. It’s not space camp, it’s Aviation & Space Challenge. It’s an
engineering program.”
“I know, I registered you, I paid the bill. I just thought—I’m sorry, Aviation & Space Challenge.” And they say girls are temperamental? “Did you see where I packed your toothbrush? Oh, and don’t forget your raincoat. The intro packet said it rains a lot there—”
“I got it, Ma. I’ll be fine.”
Vail slid her card into the slot and the green light flickered. She pulled down on the handle and walked into the dark room. She ran her hand along the wall, fumbling for the light switch. A floor lamp by the window popped on.
“Is Aunt Faye there? I just want to go over a few things with her about getting you to the airpor—”
“She went to bed already.”
“Maybe she’s still—all right, whatever. Forget it. Do you know what time you’re leaving?”
“Early. We’ve gotta be on the road at seven.”
“Then you’d better get to bed.”
Silence.
“Jonathan, you there?”
“Here.”
“Did you call Robby, say good-bye?”
“He came over tonight, we had dinner.”
“That’s great. I’m glad you spent some time with him. All right—enough talk. Go to bed, get a good night’s sleep. I don’t want you getting sick your first day of camp.” Shit. “I mean Aviation Challenge.” Jesus Christ. This is painful. “Call me if there’s a problem. And have a great time. I wish I could be there to see you off.”
“I’ll call you when I can.”
“Don’t forget your phone charger.”
“Ma?”
Vail set her key card on the dresser. “I just want to be able to reach you if I need to.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you in a few days, okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s great. Have a great time. Love you.”
“Love you too.” And then he hung up.
Having her aunt living with them since her ex-husband’s death was a blessing in more ways than one. Being in a career where travel was a reality of the job made it difficult having a teenager, especially one in today’s times where there were so many avenues for a young mind to go astray. Faye’s continuous and steady presence in the house was an unforeseen benefit of all she had endured while handling the Dead Eyes case. She had no idea that Faye’s presence would have such a positive impact on her life.
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